Melted White
by pottachu
Summary: Infront of a fireplace, Vash explains to Meryl what snow is, and he uses to it express more of what he feels. Oneshot after the series VXM Please review


"Snow? What's snow, Vash?"

"I read about it once. I felt faux snow."

"But what is it?" Meryl asked again.

A small fire was burning in the fireplace. The flames gulped down the air and flickered with enticing figure. Dimness in the room brought a new atmosphere, and instead of sitting across from the outlaw, the insurance girl was sitting next to him. Vash was alone with Meryl. Meryl was with Vash… and that's all she had cared about until the gunman brought up snow.

"It's pure, white, fluffy, soft…"

"I don't understand. Is it food? A blanket? Furniture?"

Vash readjusted himself. He sat up more, considering an answer. Meryl could feel his weight shift in the ripple affect of the cushion.

"When the weather is cold enough, the water vapor in the clouds condense and freeze as they fall to the ground- that's the scientific definition, but in my opinion, it doesn't do it justice." Although he was explaining the substance, his voice was not loud and broken up, but smooth as if he was cooing.

Comforting, the warmth of the fire heated Meryl's skin. It relaxed her, like someone was cradling her body. Light danced on the shadowed floor and furniture; where it hit, darkness, fear, and doubt crept into corners.

She had never heard of snow.

"But snow is more than flakes of water. When it's cold enough, it covers the ground, and it crunches under your feet. Not like a sharp loud crunch, but a soft condensing crunch. I guess it's like down-feather ice. And the pictures I saw of it were so beautiful. White was everywhere. The flakes fall from the sky, delicately, noiselessly. When it snowed on Earth, people would play games in it. Children would make snow balls and snowmen."

"Vash, what's that?" Meryl asked.

"They take snow and compact it into balls different sizes. They could stack them on top of one another, and then they put a face on the top ball, and something for arms. And if anyone could find a hill, they would take something slick to sit on and slide down it."

"And it's fluffy and white? Like cotton?" Meryl inquired.

"No… more like crushed ice… at least that's what Rem did for me. It wasn't real snow, but she made a lot of it for Knives and me. And it melts in your hand if you hold it too long. The heat turns the ice back to liquid…"

As Vash told Meryl this, she felt she was melting, and all the iciness in her was draining away. Her guard was down, and she was vulnerable- exposed.

"After being in the cold snow all day, family and friends would come in and warm themselves up by a fireplace…where the snow melted…"

"And that's what reminded you of snow? It does sound interesting…" Meryl commented. She waited for a moment, watching the flames curve and snap in the fireplace, illuminating areas with its warmth. "Then what do they do?"

She didn't know when she had gotten so close to the outlaw, but their bodies were touching now, and she was speaking nakedly. Flames reflected in the mint eyes of Vash, but they were sober and halcyon. He wasn't looking at her, only at the flames.

They were alone.

"Vash…were they sad?"

"They used to be. But the warmth and company after the fire cheered them up. The snow was fun…. But it was melting and displaying the ground for each other to see the rough edges, the depth, and all it had bared. Was the ground good enough, or should it always be covered in cold snow?" Vash asked.

Meryl watched his now troubled eyes. The only snow on Gunsmoke were people who were bound to conformity or rebellion. They were clothed or masked, and in the case next to her, reflected the happiness desired. The snow was beautiful, but cold, it didn't have the depth, it wasn't realistic, and it couldn't catch you if you fell. It was soft and fun, an embellishment, a façade. The snow left, it would never last, but the ground was solid and firm. How could you walk on disintegrated floors?

"Am I good enough as myself?" Vash asked, quieter this time, and still he did not dare look at her.

Meryl stared at him. It was a ludicrous question. It was himself she loved. It was his _ground_ she loved, and at the moment she didn't care if the world knew, because her feelings were bear. Vash's were fairly exposed too now…

Lifting her hand to his face, she demanded his eyes. They were worried, and for once, Meryl wasn't. Solemnly, her eyes shut, and she drew closer to him until she felt his breath stop. Then their lips met one another for the first time. It was calming for the outlaw, and satisfactory for the insurance girl. After the simple kiss, their lips left.

Meryl opened her eyes, waiting for his reaction. He stared at her in silence with his halcyon eyes that reflected her image. Slowly, melted snow seeped from them, and trailed down his cheek. It was a moment that words could not do justice.

Gently, he slid his arm around her shoulder, and kept her warm.


End file.
